


Of Coffee and Reckless Romance

by willneverbeordinary



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (not necessarily in that order), Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Office AU, Office Sex, and Starbucks Coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willneverbeordinary/pseuds/willneverbeordinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It seemed as if autumn had turned into winter overnight, the trees suddenly barren where there had been fiery red and yellow, and the temperature had dropped and so the blanket that always magically appeared draped over him when he fell asleep in his office was all the more welcome. He wiggled his hands around, fingers finding and clutching the edges, and pulled it tighter around himself.</p><p>It was strange. He wasn’t a heavy sleeper yet he never seemed to wake up to catch his benefactor."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Coffee and Reckless Romance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sirenja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirenja/gifts).



> The photo edit is made by the talented [sirenja-and-the-stag](http://sirenja-and-the-stag.tumblr.com/) who was also the one to send me the Hannigram Office AU prompt on tumblr in the first place.
> 
> The prompt was "Some ideas: If Hannibal wants coffee it´s always Will who has to get it from the nearest Starbucks/coffee shop. If something goes wrong it´s Will who has to stay late and fix it with Hannibal - sometimes he falls asleep on a couch near the large window front of the office and Hannibal puts a blanket on him. Will has to accompany Hannibal to a Business Dinner in a high-class restaurant and gets drunk! thank you!" 
> 
> She didn't really get any of that. But I liked the idea of Will working overtime and the idea of blankets and Starbucks coffee. So it all got mixed together into this thing. (Then I added some porn.) Enjoy!

 

It seemed as if autumn had turned into winter overnight, the trees suddenly barren where there had been fiery red and yellow, and the temperature had dropped and so the blanket that always magically appeared draped over him when he fell asleep in his office was all the more welcome. He wiggled his hands around, fingers finding and clutching the edges, and pulled it tighter around himself.

Will worked a lot of overtime, not because he particularly wanted to but because Jack Crawford was the kind of boss who didn’t give a real choice in the matter. A lot of those times he would nod off in his chair and wake up to a more or less empty floor, a few texts from his friend Alana telling him she fed his dogs again and the blanket that was usually draped over the couch in the break room now wrapped around him. It was strange. He wasn’t a heavy sleeper yet he never seemed to wake up to catch his benefactor.

“Did you sleep in here again?”

Will cracks an eye open at the sound of Beverly’s voice and sees her standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

He closes his eye again. “No.”

Will can all too easily imagine her rolling her eyes at him.

“Stop smiling, you’re not as funny as you think you are, Graham.”

Another set of footsteps approaches and Will opens his eyes, for a second tensing up and preparing to be caught sleeping during office hours by Jack, but it’s Brian Zeller that all but shoulders his way into Will’s office.

“Hey, Will, I need- is that coffee?” Zeller looks at Beverly, then at Will and back at Beverly again. “How come you never bring me coffee, Bev? We’re on the same team, he’s just-“ He finishes with a vague hand gesture.

Will refrains from pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You can get your own coffee, I’m not anyone’s assistant. Besides, I didn’t bring him that, someone else did.” Beverly raises an eyebrow. “Who brought you coffee again?”

“Again?” Zeller chimes in before throwing his hands up and stalking away muttering about how no one brings him any damn coffee and never mind, he’s going to solve whatever it was on his own.

“I have no idea,” Will says as he plucks the mug from his table and takes a sip. Not warm exactly but it hasn’t yet gone cold enough to be undrinkable.

Beverly gives a slanted smirk. “And Starbucks too, not the crap from the breakroom. I’d say someone likes you, Graham.”

“Hm, oh, there’s no accounting for taste.” Will puts the mug down and gets up to fold the blanket so he can put it back where it belongs. If there’s even any point considering it will end up around him again next time he falls asleep in his office which, honestly, is very likely going to be at the end of the day.

“Come on, you’re not that unlikable.”

Will gives a huff.

“You’re not.”

“No? I am almost always here at work, I have a pack of stray dogs and even on the best day my suit will have dog hairs on it, I live out in the middle of nowhere and I was headhunted for this position that I know most of you were hoping they were going to fill by recruiting within the company.” He checks it off on his fingers and finishes with another huff of something that could be a laugh. “Besides, if someone, uh,  _likes_  me they must have missed the whole spectacle with Alana last Christmas.”

This time he does see Beverly roll her eyes. “It was under a mistletoe! And she did kiss you back! You guys are still friends. Your flaws are not really flaws, Will. Maybe your snarky tone is but the dogs, that’s definitely just cute.”

She looks at him for a long time until he looks back. He still doesn’t reply though and she more or less groans and looks up at the ceiling for a moment.

Will drinks his coffee.

“Fine, okay, whatever.” She turns to leave but says over her shoulder, “Good luck with your secret admirer though, I hope she’s cute!”

—

The blanket and coffee keeps happening.

There’s not always coffee, though, just when Will happens to sleep through the entire night, and wakes up with a crick in his neck and sand in his eyes and the only good thing is that Starbucks that’s always waiting for him on his desk.

He’s smiling when Jack enters.

“Good morning, Jack.”

Jack stops and points at him with a slight frown. “Is that. The blanket from the breakroom?”

“No, it’s a whole other blanket that looks just like that one.”

Jack doesn’t dignify that remark with a response.

“Listen, I need you to work a bit of overtime today as well. So stock up on that coffee, you’re going to need it!” he says instead, with a hint of what is supposedly meant to be a friendly smile, before he turns to leave again.

Will’s smile is completely gone and he rubs his hand over his eyes and sighs.

“Good thing the house elf brings me this then.” He downs the last of the coffee and gets to work.

It’s the same routine as per usual, he eats at his desk, Beverly distracts him during her break and apart from Jimmy coming to ask about a shipment Zeller should have overseen but somehow forgotten about nothing out of the ordinary really happens and in the evening when most have gone home Will is still in front of the computer and far from done.

He pushes away from his desk with a groan and leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. There’s a distinct tension at his temples and his back is very much starting to protest. The knock on the doorframe has him quickly sitting back up and he reaches for his suit jacket that he’d taken off a good while ago but doesn’t do more than clutch it in his hand briefly.

“My apologies for disturbing you,” says a man at the door. He has halfway turned to leave already when Will speaks.

“No, no, it’s okay. I think I need a distraction anyway.”

There’s a hint of a smile, just the tiniest quirk at the corners of his lips, from the man and Will ducks his head a little and his fingers clutches and releases the fabric of the jacket that’s still underneath his palm.

“I thought you may be asleep.” He takes a step inside, gaze quickly sweeping around the room.

Will begins to answer but stops himself with a frown. He bites his lip and then gives a little smile. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who wraps me in a blanket when I do fall asleep in here.”

The man tilts his head somewhat and his lips quirk almost unnoticeably again. “I am not the one who wraps you in a blanket.”

“Except you are.” Will is grinning now. He rubs his hand over his mouth and shakes his head.

“I’m afraid I will have to claim guilty,” the man says with his head slightly bowed and he looks up at Will almost through his lashes.

Will has to swallow three times before his mouth stops feeling so suddenly dry.

“You work here.”

“I do, yes.” The man is smiling now.

Will just barely keeps from cringing at himself. “No, I mean, I’ve seen you, but you work at a different department. Higher up.”

“Yes.”

“Um, what’s your name?”

“How terribly rude of me, my apologies, Mr. Graham. My name is Hannibal Lecter and I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

Hannibal walks over and extends a hand. Will stands up abruptly and leans across his desk to shake it. Hannibal is still smiling at him and Will really hopes it’s not noticeable the way his cheeks heat up. He hadn’t connected the name and the face but of course, Lecter is on the board of directors.

“That’s better than ‘house-elf’,” Will says and instantly snaps his mouth shut.

Hannibal gives a slight quirk of his eyebrow. “Have you taken to calling me that?”

“Have I been calling the mysterious person who makes sure I’m warm and cozy when I sleep here and who brings me coffee and who happens to outrank me, by far, an odd, mythical creature?” Will says. “Not when anyone has been around to hear it.”

There isn’t a reply but Hannibal nods at him, smile still in place, and Will relaxes his shoulders.

He doesn’t say that Hannibal does indeed seem like an odd, mythical creature. Certainly not a simple house elf but definitely something otherworldly. It might be the why his eyes gleam or the late hour or even the sharp and pointy teeth which has Will’s, often overactive, imagination running away with him and it spins images of old European folklores and tales of deep, dark forests and eyes glowing in the dark.

“So. Hannibal,” Will says, letting it roll of his tongue, feeling the shape of it, hoping he’s not being too presumptuous in using Lecter’s first name. “I hope you don’t intend wrap me in that blanket now that you’ve found me awake.”

Hannibal just tilts his head somewhat. “I have to confess I was rather hoping to find you awake.”

“Oh.”

“It hardly seems appropriate to continue courting you in secret.”

“Please tell me English isn’t your first language,” Will says with a grimace.

Hannibal is watching him, his eyes seem to twinkle and he is clearly smiling. “It’s not my first language.”

“You’re from Europe, somewhere?” Will walks away from his desk and distracts himself by looking out the window at the city below.

“Lithuania.”

He looks at Hannibal over his shoulder. “I’m going to chalk that up to cultural differences and language barriers, then.”

“If you wish.” Hannibal gives him another nod. “Though, I am very well aware of the implications of my choice of words.”

Will is rooted in the spot. He doesn’t even turn when Hannibal bids him goodnight and he only half mumbles a response.

Once alone he goes back to his chair, sinks down and buries his face in his hands. When he wakes up there isn’t a blanket around him.

But the coffee is there.

—

It takes Will over a week before he lets himself stay late again. He brings work home, he gets in early. Jack raises his tone at him once or twice and Will bites down his retorts and tries not to yell but everyone flees anyway each time the two of them get into a discussion.

Beverly keeps asking about the secret admirer. Will hasn’t told her yet that the ‘she’ is, in fact, a ‘he’ and that ‘he’ is Hannibal Lecter.

“She’s not bringing you coffee anymore?” Beverly is sitting on his desk and Will is doing his best to ignore her. It’s getting late and he really,  _really_ wants to finish and go home.

“I haven’t fallen asleep here lately.”

She frowns. “Huh. Well, now that you mention it, no you haven’t. Did you meet her or something? You didn’t like her?”

“I-“ Will bites his teeth together and sighs though his nose. “We met.”

“Who was it? Don’t tell me it was Margot. I thought she was a one night thing, right?”

Will just hums at her.

“Shoot, but she doesn’t work her, does she? She was just hired for that project. And I hear she has something going with Alana. People talk, offices are gossipy that way.”

“Sorry, who doesn’t work here?” Will doesn’t look up from the screen.

“Will, you should get laid. It’d do you some good. Go for it, come on.” She throws his pen at him and Will gives a ‘hey!’ but she just gives a toss of her head. “A fling between co-workers would really give people something to talk about. I dare you to do it, be the talk of the office, Will!”

“Oh, I’d be the talk of the office.” Will picks his pen up. “It’s not a co-worker.”

“Middle management? A boss, someone like Jack. But not Jack, obviously.”

Will gives a wry smile. “Try member of the board.”

“Not Du Maurier?”

“God no,” Will makes a face.

Beverly nods and jumps down from the desk. “Good, I would have started to worry if you’d fallen for the Ice Queen. I mean she’s amazing. She really got balls. Figuratively. I mean, she’s the only lady on the board so she’s got to be ruthless I suppose.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t know how she does it. The whole calm and collected. She’s so poised, you know?”

“I suppose so.” Will begins to close all his open windows on the computer and clicks to shut it off.

“Hey, hold on. If it’s not her, it’s a man, isn’t it?”

Will freezes. He doesn’t look at Beverly. He just stares at the now black screen with his shoulders pulled up and tense and his fingers gripping the arms of his chair.

She puts her hands against the desk and leans forward. “Gotcha!”

“We’re not discussing it.”

“I think we are. They are mostly a bunch of old, white guys. We need to talk about which one is creepy enough to stalk you.”

Will looks up at her with his eyebrows pulled together and the corners of his mouth tipped downwards. “He’s not a creep and it isn’t stalking.”

“It’s a bit creepy. Kinda obsessive.”

“You didn’t call it that when you thought it was a woman.”

Beverly shrugs at him. “It seemed kinda cute. Old, white guy just isn’t my idea of cute.”

“Right now the middle aged, Asian woman isn’t really being as cute as she think she is, either,” Will bites out as he gets up.

“Har har. You’re lucky you’re my friend. I’d tell Jack you’re being a racist prick otherwise.”

Will walks past her and turns the light off to Beverly’s noise of protest. “Yeah, I’m sure you would.”

—

The next day Beverly doesn’t come and talk to him. He sends her a text asking if she would like to eat lunch in the breakroom and she tells him she’s busy and that he can go screw himself so he knows they’re good.

He ends up eating at his desk and without Beverly the day slips into evening so seamlessly that Will doesn’t notice until he looks up and finds the rest of the floor looking mostly dark outside the open door to his office. At first he quickly stands up and almost rushes out of his room but then he flops down into the chair again. With his heart thudding uncomfortable against his ribs he decides to stay.

It takes an hour before anything happens and Will is deeply immersed with his work when there’s a knock on the doorframe. It makes him jump and his eyes dart up and he finds himself gazing into Hannibal’s hazel ones. He automatically reaches for his suit jacket but it’s an aborted motion. It hardly seems to matter under the circumstances that he’s in his shirt with his sleeves rolled up.

“Hi,” Will says and it sounds a little bit too breathless and he almost makes a face at himself. His fingers flex and jitter unconsciously and he licks his lip.

“Hello, Will.”

“I’m sorry, I have been working early instead of late. I could have told you.” He shifts in his chair and looks away.

“It would have been courteous. But in this case you are hardly under any obligation to inform me on the matter or explain yourself to me.”

“You keep bringing me coffee, Mr. Lecter.”

“Doctor, in fact,” Hannibal corrects him, and then gives him that small smile of his. “And no strings attached, I assure you.”

Will gives a wry one in turn, nodding. “I’m sure. Dr.Lecter.”

Hannibal’s smile only widens.

“Is that medical or is it a PhD?”

“Both. And I have worked both as a surgeon and a psychiatrist.”

Will stops himself before he can say something like ‘of course you have and I’m betting you’re some sort of European aristocrat and old money too’ but he does think it. It just seems so, well, excessive perhaps. Fancy titles, fancy careers. Plural. Will has one education that landed him the job he has now and before that he fixed old boat motors like his father had done.

What he can’t stop himself from wondering out loud, though, is “Why are you even interested in me?”

Hannibal quirks an eyebrow at him but otherwise his expression remains neutral. “Assuming I am interested?”

“Assuming you are interested,” Will agrees.

Will follows him with his gaze as Hannibal circles his desk and he turns his chair at an angle from it when Hannibal turns the corner. He comes to stand right in front of Will and Will tilts his head back to be able to keep looking him in the eye.

“You have a remarkable mind. It’s fascinating.”

Will gives a bark of laughter and Hannibal smiles at him. “I work a rather boring office job, relatively high up but not that high and I used to work in a shipyard before that. There’s nothing at all special about me.”

Hannibal’s smile slips. “Is there another Will Graham, then, who comes up with imaginative and brilliant solutions to impossible problems at this company?”

“Oh.”

“Jack Crawford talks about you.”

Will tilts his head and blinks. “What does Jack think about me?”

“He doesn’t appreciate enough what you can do.”

“And you do?”

Hannibal leans down a fraction and there seems to be a gleam in his eyes. “I could show you just how much I appreciate you.”

“I don’t find you that interesting,” Will lies but Hannibal smiles at him as if he sees right through it, maybe he does, and he leans down further.

“You will.”

When Hannibal’s hand cups Will’s face, Will slowly meets his gaze. That gleam in those eyes has turned to something openly hungry and Will’s breath escapes him in a rush. He reaches out and finds a shoulder to hold onto and he twists his fingers into the material of Hannibal’s very nice, probably very expensive, suit jacket and he strains forward the last few inches to press his lips against the other man’s. Hannibal’s lips part against his and Will makes a small noise and finds his other hand on Hannibal’s hips and that he’s tugging the man closer. The angle gets unpractical and he can’t bring him closer unless Hannibal somehow manages to straddle him. Though it’s an unlikely thing he could, the idea of it sends a liquid, hot rush through Will’s abdomen. Instead Will pushes and Hannibal backs up enough for Will to be able to stand. Then he backs himself up against the desk and pulls Hannibal into him. Hannibal presses close, one hand has found its way to the back of Will’s neck where clever fingers tugs at his hair and pulls his head back, exposing his throat to a sharp set of teeth and eager lips.

Will moans and bucks his hips.

There’s an answering sound from Hannibal that is more a growl than anything and he pushes a leg between Will’s. Will presses against it with another moan. He lets his head fall forward, presses his face against Hannibal’s shoulder and breathes hotly against the fabric, each breath a damp and desperate thing that’s followed by small noises. He ruts carelessly against the sold thigh pressed in-between his, and his fingers dig into Hannibal’s hips, trying to keep him just where he is. Hannibal bites down hard on Will’s neck and Will cries out and sure hands instantly grabs ahold of his legs and hoist him up and he finds himself sitting on top of the desk instead. He wraps his legs loosely around Hannibal’s hips and leans back on his hands a little, head tilted slightly backwards, and meets Hannibal’s gaze.

Hannibal looks at him with hooded eyes and rumpled clothes. Will grins and reaches for him, grabs him by the hair and pulls him in for another kiss. He pushes his tongue into Hannibal’s mouth, tastes him, and finds Hannibal’s hand and places it above his own knee and slides it a few inches up his thigh. He breaks the kiss and takes in the way Hannibal’s usually immaculately slicked back hair is falling into his eyes and the way he is panting and the way his cock presses against Will through their layers of clothing. Will shifts his weight and reaches up with one hand to run his thumb over Hannibal’s bottom lip and Hannibal’s fingers jump against Will’s thigh and then grabs it bruisingly hard. The pressure lets up within seconds, though, as Hannibal slides his hand further up Will’s leg until he’s pressing his palm against the hard curve of Will’s cock.

Will looks Hannibal in the eye, almost smiles.

“Please.”

There’s a hint of a smirk on Hannibal’s lips before they claim Will’s in a kiss as Hannibal undoes Will’s fly and pushes his underwear just out of the way. Will unbuttons his own shirt and it slides down his shoulders and hangs from his arms, stuck at the elbow where the sleeves are rolled up. Hannibal grabs it then and twists it, locking Will’s arms behind his back, and at the same time finally stops teasing and takes Will in hand and starts stroking.

“Oh,” Will gasps and he squirms. He has no leverage and can’t really move, he can just sit there and press his legs against Hannibal’s hips and try to keep from crying out any little words of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘God, don’t stop.”

He does anyway, murmurs it under his breath, and Hannibal groans and twists himself close in an odd angle all the while his hand keeps working. He bends his head and Will feels the broad stroke of his tongue licking a trail up Will’s neck and then he bites down over Will’s pulse point, just below the jaw. Will’s hips stutter up and he tries desperately to fuck into Hannibal’s hand and he can feel the rush of his orgasm building and he lets out a string of moans before throwing his head back, eyes wide and mouth open soundlessly as he comes over his own stomach in messy stripes.

Will’s eyelids flutters shut and he tries to catch his breath. Hannibal releases the grip on the shirt and pulls back a fraction, letting go. With a breathless laugh Will shrugs the shirt the rest of the way off and digs out a few tissues from his drawer. He wipes himself down, tucks himself back and offers a tissue to Hannibal so he can wipe his hand clean. Hannibal looks at it, then at Will, and with something Will could swear was a naughty smirk, he licks Will’s come off his hand instead. Will’s dick gives a little twitch and he makes a small noise.

Crumpling up the tissues he tosses them in the trash can and turns his attention back to Hannibal who’s watching him with lidded eyes. His lips are parted and his breathing heavy. Will slides down from the desk and presses his hand against Hannibal’s groin just to feel how hard he is. Hannibal’s hip jerk seemingly of their own accord and Will gives a smirk. He drops to his knees, not missing the way Hannibal’s eyes widen, and works the pants and underwear out of the way so he can swallow Hannibal down. Above him Hannibal keens. His fingers twist into Will’s hair and his cock twitch against Will’s tongue. He keeps himself from moving but Will grabs a hold of his hips and encourages him to trust.

Will opens his eyes for a while and looks up at Hannibal and finds that he is looking down at Will with a look of something that seems like wonder, bordering almost on worship. Hannibal’s left hand is stroking through Will’s hair, threading gently through his curls, and the right one is touching his face softly, reverently. It’s overwhelming and Will has to close his eyes to it. He focuses instead of the slide of Hannibal’s cock, hot and heavy in his mouth, and tries to relax his throat. He pulls at Hannibal’s hips and pushes him own head forward and almost gags around it and he hears Hannibal moan and feels how he grips Will’s hair. Will does it again and again, over and over, until Hannibal is fucking into his mouth without restraint. Curious he lets his hands wander a bit then, lets his right hand slide from hip to thigh and slowly up to grab a handful of Hannibal’s ass. Slowly he shifts until his fingers brush against Hannibal’s perineum and when Hannibal lets out a moan Will sneaks his fingers upwards until they brush over Hannibal’s hole. He doesn’t push inside, just strokes, but Hannibal makes a noise and goes taut and shoves his cock deep and comes down Will’s throat. Once he lets up Will nearly collapses on the floor and struggles to catch his breath. He rubs a hand over his neck and winces.

With Hannibal’s help he gets to his feet. He can’t help smiling at the way Hannibal is trying to make himself look at least somewhat presentable though it’s a lost cause. He looks thoroughly fucked. Will can’t help feeling a bit pleased about that.

“I was thinking that it’s my turn to get you a cup of coffee,” Will says with a hint of a smirk and he licks his bottom lip before adding, “I have one of those fancy coffee machines at home, actually, a Christmas gift. It’s a bit late to drink any now but I was hoping you might want a cup in the morning, along with breakfast.”

Hannibal raises an eyebrow at him. “A change of heart, then? An invitation I would most gladly accept.”

Will gives somewhat of a shrug and a lewd smile. “It seems I do find you interesting, Dr. Lecter.”

The smile Hannibal gives in turn is slow, small but completely ravenous and sends a shiver through Will that shortens his breath and quickens his pulse. He reaches for Hannibal and pulls him into his arms and tucks his face away against his chest. It feels as if he’s on a dizzying height and without further thought he lets himself fall.


End file.
